Welcome to Night Vale, the Lost Episodes: Second Date
by futuregoogleceo
Summary: The sun rises on a new day in Night Vale, a day full of political turmoil, thought control, and a blossoming romance.


Breaking news. The news are no longer in order. They are, in fact, breaking. Welcome to Night Vale.

(intro music plays)

The city council has announced sweeping changes this week all across our community under a new pledge to be less fearful of the unknown. First, the council has eliminated the color-coded fear alert system. A committee has been established to determine if a committee to investigate the need for a replacement system should be established.

As part of the initiative, the city council has also reopened the new materialized and officially non-existent subway system. Residents are finding it increasingly convenient for their daily commute as subway entrances appear nearby whenever one thinks of travel, or seared scallops. Fare prices have caused some confusion amongst the riders as they are inconsistent. They appear to depend on the weather, the subway system's mood, the number of touchdowns in the Scorpions' latest game, and 44 other factors being fed into a supercomputer. Residents who do not own a supercomputer are advised to avoid the subway as it is not yet clear what happens to those who are unable to pay their fare.

The city council has also lifted the restriction on non-humans running for public office. Non-humans are still not allowed to run for sheriff. They are, however, allowed and strongly encouraged to run from the sheriff. Following this new rule change, Hiram McDaniels has officially announced his candidacy for mayor. He made the announcement in front of Big Rico's Pizza; his 18-foot figure towering over the assembled lunch-time crowd. His voices booming through the otherwise quiet Tuesday afternoon, each of his three speaking heads belting out a different word while menacing looks from his two other heads ensured that murmuring was kept to the bare minimum. McDaniels' candidacy is being strongly supported by local billionaire and sole member of the Night Vale Private Library, Marcus Vansten. Surprisingly, McDaniels' campaign platform currently consists of only one issue. If elected, he plans on making Night Vale into a nudist community for the top income bracket. He pledges, though, that the required amount of clothing for all other citizens will remain the same. McDaniels is currently leading in the polls with over 1400% of likely voters, though local scientist and numbers expert Carlos claims that cannot possibly be accurate.

The city council has announced that the sheriff's secret police will now be referred to as the sheriff's clandestine police. Their functions will not change, but officers will now adorn switchblade shoes, an assorted array of explosive pens, a new pair of x-ray glasses, as the old version contained several carcinogenic materials, and an easily concealable four-foot rocket launcher that comes in a very subtle shade of purple.

The sheriff's clandestine police and a Vague, Yet Menacing, Government Agency will be turning off the water supply to our town for one hour between 10:27AM and 11:27AM for a water improvement project. Once complete, all bottled water, rain water, and any natural water sources will become illegal.

And now, a word from our sponsors. Do you feel tired? Do you wake up in the mornings? Are you hungry when you haven't eaten? Do you want a new sports car? Then drink water. Night Vale's new and improved drinking water satisfies all your needs, all your wants, even ones you didn't know you had. This message has been brought to you by the Night Vale Water Department. Drink, because we said so.

The sheriff's clandestine police has issued a statement that citizens should not be concerned with the dog park glowing neon red from 6PM to 11PM on weekdays. It is illegal to be concerned about the dog park, or the color red, or hours of the day, or weekdays. In fact, it is illegal to be concerned about anything. If you are feeling concerned, step over to the nearest inconspicuous satellite dish and voice your concerns clearly and eloquently. A clandestine police officer will be along shortly to alleviate your concerns. Permanently.

And now for the most exciting news! Dear listeners, I did it. Two days ago I called Carlos. Sweet Carlos. It has been three weeks since our first date, and Carlos has not called. I didn't want to seem desperate, but three weeks is a long time. So, I called him. He answered on the first ring in his smooth, caramel, authoritative voice. "Hello?". I panicked. The words just spewed from my mouth, "Carlos-it's-me-Cecil-we-should-get-together-again -sometime". A pause. A long pause. Too long a pause. "Cecil, is this call for personal reasons?", he asked. Oh, why is it so difficult to form words when I'm talking to Carlos? "Aha" I replied sheepishly. "I did have a good time the other night", he began. "Aha", I interjected. "I would enjoy having dinner with you again". I tried to say something articulate, but all I could muster was "Me also". "Oh? And where would you like to go?", Carlos continued. Since Carlos is still relatively new to our fair town, I recommended we go to a local gem: Jordan's Seafood Palace, an exquisite Italian, Japanese, and Ethiopian fusion ice cream tavern, on the edge of town.

We met up outside the neon red dog park right before sunset. At least, I think it was sunset. The red glow of the dog park has made it difficult to tell the time of day. Since Carlos has access to several supercomputers, we decided to try the new subway system. The ride was uneventful, though Carlos seemed more interested in how the Subway operated than sitting with me. He is such a curious man. I slowly inched my way towards Carlos until our knees touch. Our knees touch, listeners! I started slowly sliding my hand in the direction of his, but before I could reach him, our subway car stopped rocking and shaking indicating that we have arrived at our stop.

Listeners, station management is getting anxious and has started howling next door. I might have to stop here. Oooo I just can't, I have to tell you what happened next.

We arrived at Jordan's Seafood Palace and were quickly seated at the Ethiopian floating bar. After all, Carlos and I are somewhat of a power couple in Night Vale. If you have not been to Jordan's, a floating bar is just like a regular bar except it hovers about 8 inches off the ground for affect. As we donned our cryogenic gloves, we each received a personalized syringe of delicious Ethiopian ice cream. Carlos explained how syringes are not a good way to serve ice cream. Something about viscosity and fluid dynamics. I couldn't pay too much attention as I was lost in his eyes. Before we could finish, the bell rang and we moved on to the Italian floating bar. There, ice cream was served to us in boots. The boot with my ice cream looked very familiar. I looked down at my feet, and noticed that one of my boots was missing. I wonder if it was the same one. The bell rang again and we moved to the final floating bar. The ice cream at this bar was in the shape of a cube and we had to eat it with chopsticks. Finally, I got to show off my chopstick skills. Carlos was impressed, very impressed. The final bell rang, and we had to leave. It's a very efficient system, but you don't get to try enough ice cream.

It was a pleasant and warm evening. Carlos took off his leisure weekend lab coat revealing an ironed lab coat shirt and lab coat pants. He reached for my hand and together we walked down main street. Carlos asked on what station does my radio program play. He cares, listeners, he really cares. "That is a good question", I said. "I don't actually know. It is the only radio station in town, so I assumed everyone knew." "Well Cecil. I don't know how to tell you this..." he began. I braced for what comes next. "But, I checked every frequency and every transmission type, and I could not locate your station at all." He smiled. I didn't know how to respond, so I smiled back. He then switched topics and talked for a long time about the different types of beakers he uses. I have long wanted to know about Carlos' beakers, but at this point, my mind was preoccupied with the thought that he could not hear my radio program. Surely he must be mistaken. I have been working for the radio station for 4 years now. I am a staple in this community; a local celebrity even. When I walk into a restaurant, they always ask me if I have a reservation. People always ask me to sign my checks. Valets always know which car is mine when I give them the ticket. I think he may have been joking. I have never heard Carlos joke before. Anyway, we roamed the dark empty Night Vale streets talking about everything and nothing in particular.

We walked over to the monument commemorating all the secret commemorative monuments buried out in the desert, and sat down on a bench. I reached for Carlos' hand and rested my head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, I looked over at Carlos expectantly. He got the hint and pressed his lips onto mine. Time stood still, more than it usually does. And then it was over. We continued to sit there for a while, enjoying the silence and the warm night air.

Carlos finally broke the silence. He volunteered to file the end-of-date report. *Heavy sigh* I was really hoping we would file it together this time...

I'm sorry listeners. The howling from station management is getting unbearable. I wish I could go on, but I must get back to the news.

Old Woman Josie no longer believes that angels exist. She has been instructed to stop believing in angels by the angels. When confronted and asked about the figures surrounding her, Old Woman Josie said "Who?" and proceeded to try and walk through the angels in her path as though they were not there. The angels, growing increasingly tired of Old Woman Josie bumping into them, re-revealed themselves to her. Old Woman Josie now claims that while the old angels did not exist, these new angels are most definitely real.

Carlos and his team of scientists are reporting that the sun will not be setting today. The sun will be pulling a double shift today, and will take tomorrow off completely. I called Carlos and asked if he could further explain this strange phenomenon, but he could not. The prevailing theory right now is that the sun has been having a rough time recently, and needs to take some time off to be by itself.

Listeners, I have an election update. A blind messenger child has brought over a press release from candidate McDaniels' campaign. It appears that there is a second 18-foot tall, five-headed dragon in Night Vale. His appearance is in fact identical to that of candidate McDaniels', and he fully supports Hiram McDaniels' campaign, both as a member of his species and a concerned resident of our community. Biram McDonald, however, is definitely not the same person as Hiram McDaniels, the press release continue. They may look the same, sounds the same, have the same car, address, social security number, government issued barcode tattoo, and share the same evil twin, but they are definitely not the same person. Totally, definitely, not. It was in fact Biram who was pulled over by the sheriff's clandestine police, at the time known as the sheriff's secret police, and Hiram's record should be expunged.

Well listeners, that does it. You already know that I support candidate McDaniels, but I officially pledge this radio station's support for candidate McDaniels as well no matter how much snarling, growling, and howling I hear from station management. Now, will a member of the biology department at the Night Vale Community College come over and pick up the messenger child? Same deal as last time, please send him to the faraway farm to run around in the sun and play with the other blind messenger children. In exchange, I would once more like that deliciously tender mystery meat you serve at your departmental parties. How nice it is that the biology department is so concerned with the blind messenger children.

In other election news, The Faceless Old Woman is speaking out against candidate McDaniels. She has lived in his home for several days now, and believes that he would make an awful mayor. His house is a mess, and all he does is sit around playing video games and blogging all the time. She claims he is not fit to be mayor and has no interest in improving our community.

And so listeners, I leave you with this. We are all broken people. Some of us more than others. We must recognize our faults, embrace them, challenge them, and mend them. We must do this on our own, for no one else can make us whole. Only then can we afford to run off into the forests, reveal our true selves and howl our souls away. And as always, good night, Night Vale. Good night.

Disclaimer: Welcome to Night Vale and all related characters are the property of Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, and Commonplace Books. No profit is made from this fan fiction episode and no infringement is intended.


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